


Baba Yaga between the Worlds

by Annariel



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fairy Tale Elements, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 03:52:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9105532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annariel/pseuds/Annariel
Summary: Clint and Natasha are chasing down a rogue personality inside Natasha's subconscious.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TigerKat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TigerKat/gifts).



> With thanks to fredbassett for beta-reading.

Natasha had called it the "Wood between the Worlds" which Clint gathered was a reference to some piece of children's literature he would have read if his parents had been middle-class and comfortably off. 

It was a simulated environment and Clint wasn't pretending to understand the theory, either technological or psychological, but he gathered the details were constructed from Natasha's own imagination and somehow shared with him. Somewhere back out there their bodies were lying side by side in induced comas while the machine linked them together.

Somewhere, out in the woods something roared.

He was holding his bow and it was already strung. He pulled on the imaginary bow and was unsurprised to find the tension was exactly as he liked it.

"Do we know what we're looking for?" Clint asked Natasha. 

"Me," she said brusquely.

Clint considered that. The problem had been diagnosed as a rogue former personality from Natasha's days in the Red Room. It needed to be eliminated from her psyche.

"Will it look like you?" he asked. It was her psyche after all.

Natasha looked at him, then looked back at the trees. "Yes," she said.

It started to snow. Clint shrugged and readied an arrow. "Let's get moving then."

They moved carefully through the woods. Clint trusted Natasha to lead the way and she seemed confident in her choice of direction. Creatures roared and howled around them.

"Nice place, your subconscious," Clint muttered.

Natasha simply grinned at him and he could see the points of her teeth. A noisy crashing sound caught his attention. He glanced behind him. Natasha grabbed his shoulders and pulled him into a bush. He looked at her questioningly.

"Not this one," she signed.

Clint readied his bow anyway but stayed hidden as two gigantic chicken legs stomped along the path they had been following.

"Baba Yaga, seriously?" he asked once the house has gone past rocking from side to side on top of its chicken legs.

"How come you've heard of Baba Yaga and not of the Narnia books?"

"I dunno. I spent more time undercover in Russia than in upstate New York?"

Natasha thumped him on the arm, but not too hard.

"If that was Baba Yaga's house, where's Baba Yaga herself?" Clint asked.

Natasha turned her head this way and that. Clint felt his senses tingle.

"Natasha, are we looking for Baba Yaga?"

"It's a possibility. I might frame a rogue personality as a witch from my childhood."

"Great."

They headed deeper into the woods.

* * *

"What's that?" Clint had caught a flash of red up ahead, ducking between the trees.

Natasha stilled next to him. He kept his eyes on the spot. His hunter's instinct told him there was something there. Natasha rested a hand briefly on his arm, telling him not to follow and then she darted into the trees to the left. Clint moved cautiously to the right, in a flanking manoeuvre. This was the difficult part. According to Natasha, the various personalities that had been imposed upon her had been tabula rasa; they had no knowledge of her own personality and thoughts but whether this one that had re-emerged and was seeking control ("re-birth, reincarnation" it had said under hypnosis) knew her thoughts was a moot point. Even if it could not predict Natasha's actions exactly, Clint suspected it could make good guesses, each personality benefited from Natasha's training and instincts.

When she came into view, Baba Yaga was like a vision of Natasha from a Tim Burton film. She had the same face but the features were exaggerated to the point of grotesque. The glint of red Clint had seen through the trees was a flowing tangled mass of hair that trailed down her back almost to the forest floor. Her nails were long and curved and, Clint suspected, deadly. She was huge. 

"You think to challenge me, little personality?" she croaked.

With a start, Clint realised that Natasha had emerged from the trees and was confronting the Baba Yaga personality head on.

"If you think you can best me inside my own head."

Baba Yaga laughed. "What do you think I have been doing all this time?"

She swept her hands downwards, sharp nails heading for Natasha who ducked and rolled underneath their deadly blades. Clint loosed his first arrow and watched it thud in between the witch's shoulder blades. She screamed and turned to face him. Clint stood up and ran for the undergrowth. He knew, almost exactly, what Natasha would do next and was not surprised when he heard a thump and a cry. 

He turned back drawing a second arrow, but there was little need. Natasha was riding Baba Yaga's back, her legs clamped around the witch's chest and one hand tangled in the witch's hair. Baba Yaga flailed but could not reach Natasha. A knife appeared in Natasha's hand which swept down across Baba Yaga's throat. The vast form crumpled to the ground, Natasha jumping free before it impacted in the snow. Red bled out and blended into the white.

"That wasn't quite what I was expecting," Clint said. "I thought you were supposed to come to terms with the different aspects of your personality."

"Americans," Natasha said with contempt.

Clint didn't argue. Slaying the demons of your possession seemed like a good option to him.


End file.
